‘Long Way Back’ is a fitting title for this week’s Burn Notice episode. The theme at play: sometimes heading back to your loved ones can be a Herculean journey. Personally, I know this all too well.
Like Jeff Foxworthy and a bunch of other dudes, I used to work at IBM. Not everybody dug us. You see, prior to Google, iPhones, Craigslist and Pokemon, IBM was kind of a big deal. And if there’s one thing that gets North Americans’ goat, it’s other people’s success stories.
This success wasn’t mine, mind you; I pulled in $12 an hour listening to entitled suburbanites complain their alt key was sticking. Nonetheless, I’d made a lot of great co-worker friends in my time there, and my bosses were surprisingly cool. To the point where if they all blew up in a Fiona Glennane-sized explosion or whatever, I’d be pretty choked. Just saying.
I worked until midnight one Friday, and upon exiting the building to head home, I realized I’d left my notepad in my desk (a yellow scrapbook consisting mostly of ideas for some bullshit screenplay I was writing). Upon returning to the IBM front entrance, a security guard stopped me, saying I wasn’t allowed to go back upstairs. When I pressed for a reason, he confided in me. “Somebody called in a bomb threat on the building.” (*)
- (*) Already, this random happening was a better idea than my screenplay.
For reasons currently elusive, this information seemed less pressing to me than the need to take my notepad home for the weekend. As such, I felt obliged to ask, “What if I just run up there real quick-like and get it?” Security Guy raised an eyebrow, mulled over my request, then said, “Just promise you won’t tell the late-shift workers about the whole bomb thing. We don’t wanna panic anyone.”
I nodded in agreement, my Faustian pact sealed. I took the elevator to the fourth floor, plucked the notepad off my desk and raised it for all to see. “Almost forgot this,” I said to my possibly-soon-to-be-exploded co-workers, the survivor’s guilt already welling up. “Ciao guys!”
I darted for the elevator. My co-workers waved, blissfully unaware of what might be their looming fate. One of them called out, “See you Monday, Steve.” The elevator doors opened and I shuffled in. Oddly unencumbered by tact or social filters, I replied with, “Uh, yeah. I hope so.” The doors closed and I got the F outta Dodge.
As difficult as the experience was, I’m glad I walked back into the building that fateful night. Closure is a powerful drug, and with all the wonderful friends I’d made at IBM, I relish the fact they got their much-needed confirmation re: me picking up my notepad. I truly, truly loved that notepad. (*)
- (*) I don’t recall the building blowing up. I’d Google it, but it’s getting late.
Artist’s rendering of how my exit from the building may have looked.
BN Season 3, Episode 9: ‘Long Way Back.’ Fiona’s leaving town for realizes this time; she’s heading back to Ireland and Michael’s pretty bummed about it. The only thing that somewhat cheers him up is a meeting with his spy contact Diego, who confirms his burn notice file is being reviewed by an assortment of higher-ups. “Stay out of trouble,” Diego warns.
To Michael’s credit, he stays out of trouble for a new personal record of 9.53 seconds (in your face, Usain Bolt!). The streak ends when Michael pops by Fi’s place to say goodbye, only to find she has a visitor: her brother Sean. And since Sean only knew Michael as his Irish alter ego Michael McBride, Our Man Westen has no choice but to keep his cover going by slipping into a thick, Shamrocky brogue. Also, as of right now I’m creating and copywriting the term ‘Spyrish.’ Govern yourself accordingly.
Sean’s in town because he wants to thwart an Irish lowlife who’s coming to kidnap Fiona and hand her over to some old enemies. The baddie’s name: Thomas O’Neil. And no, he’s not the award-winning poet. (*)
- (*) I’m assuming Ireland has an award-winning poet named Thomas O’Neill.
After a couple of false starts (including the Glennane Clan nearly being gunned down and Michael driving Sam’s ladyfriend’s convertible off a building), Mikey meets up with O’Neill, posing as an arms dealer. His pitch: “If you deliver some assault rifles for me, I’ll hand you Fi on a platter.” Soon enough, O’Neill agrees, but is kind of a dick about the whole thing. Intuition tells me he may have once been a member of the Cranberries. That’d make anyone pissy.
In the meantime, Fiona creates an exact replica of a signature bomb O’Neill’s used a dozen times in the past without getting nabbed. The plan: place the bomb in the Greater O’Neill Area, then get the authorities involved so he can finally be nailed for all his previous crimes against humanity. (*)
- (*) Which include Salvation by the Cranberries. Awful, awful song.
One glitch: O’Neill and his goons hit Michael, Sean and Fi with a sneak attack. Sean gets shot up, Fi gets kidnapped and Michael’s knocked out cold. How’d the Irish know where they were hiding out? Oh, Mikey’s got a hunch.
Michael stops by the home of Tom Strickler, a.k.a. the shady agent who’s trying to get our favourite spy back in with the government. Strickler cops to letting the Irish know about Fiona, and that O’Neill’s gonna be taking her on a boat back to Ireland. Why’d the Stick-Man do it? Well, he thinks Michael’s never gonna get his old spy job back so long as he’s palling around with a former IRA gal who builds bombs for a hobby. Michael takes this news surprisingly well. And by that I mean he plugs several bullets in Strickler’s chest.
Michael and Sam head to the dock where O’Neill and his back-up Irishmen are ready to cast off. After slipping Fi’s homemade bomb onto the boat, they get all full-frontal-assaulty on the bad guys. In the melee, Fi jumps overboard and nearly drowns, while O’Neill & Co. take off in the boat. Sam then calmly phones the coast guard and alerts them to the Irish and their wee Irish vessel (replete with Fi’s incriminating explosives). Sucks to be you guys, sukkaz!
Fi’s brother Sean (still alive, and healing nicely, thanks for asking, you monster) gives Michael mad Irish props for his help and offers up some advice: “If you or Fiona ever go back to Ireland, O’Neill’s nasty associates will kill you big time.” So yes, this sorta puts the kibosh on Fi’s whole ‘leaving Miami for good’ thing. Florida’s like Amway, baby – there’s no getting out.
Also, because of that whole ‘killing Strickler thing,’ there’s now some trouble a brewin’ for Michael. Diego’s dead, offed by someone who’s come into town to take care of Strickler’s ‘Agent to the Spies’ business. How’s this going to affect Mikey’s burn notice? Guess we’ll find out. (*)
- (*) Given that the next episode ain’t the series finale, I’m guessing not well.
AfterBurn:
-- Badass Voiceover Goodness: MICHAEL (V.O.): “Bomb makers, like master chefs, tend to have a signature dish. If you can duplicate it, you can leave their fingerprint wherever you want.”
-- Showcase’s Burn Notice YogurtWatch©: Zero yogurt in this episode. I can only conclude the Irish f*cking hate dairy.
-- Do you think veteran actress Sharon Gless (a.k.a. Madeline Weston) occasionally rifles off her own name-themed catch phrase? Like maybe “Gless is more, bitch!” or “Acquiesce to the Gless!” I’d like to think she does.
-- RIP Tom Strickler: Ep. 306 – Ep. 309. “Loving son, brother and douchebag.”